


cinnamon mittens

by peppermintteababy



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Gen, Gentle Words, Soft Hands, just a tiny apology fic, late night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22048003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintteababy/pseuds/peppermintteababy
Summary: Yoongi can't sleep, and neither can Jimin.
Relationships: Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	cinnamon mittens

**Author's Note:**

> a gift for an ex-friend. I'm hoping to give it new memories and new affiliations by sharing it here.

“Can’t sleep either?”

Yoongi started at Jimin’s soft voice behind him. Rather then relax at seeing whom the voice belonged to, Yoongi further stiffened when Jimin stepped up next to him at the edge of the balcony.

“What is it?” Yoongi muttered. He pulled his eyes away from the younger man and settled his heavy glare on the orange and blue city lights before him. He had been leaning against the balcony railing for almost an hour, bathing in the silence of both his mind and the world outside. The events of the day replayed occasionally, however, he did not allow the emotions evoked from their remembrance to linger.

Yoongi heard Jimin sigh. Jimin’s exhale breathed a sorrow that mirrored the helplessness Yoongi felt in his own heart.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Jimin professed in a near whisper. Yoongi barely caught the last words for the crack in his younger friend’s voice. “I’m so sorry.”

Even if his heart broke at that moment, even if his pride and pain fell from the tower he’d built, Yoongi couldn’t bear to look Jimin’s way. He couldn’t bear to see his expression or allow Jimin to see Yoongi’s own shining eyes.

“It’s fine,” Yoongi said, leveling his voice a monotone with the meager control he still held. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

“No, it’s not fine.” Jimin insisted. He choked in a shallow breath. “I hurt- I hurt you.”

“Jimin.”

“Hyung-”

Out of the corner of his eye, Yoongi caught Jimin covering his face in his hands. Yoongi watched as he took several deep breaths before settling into silence. He felt the urge to move his gaze away but could not. The railing of their apartment balcony felt cold beneath his two-handed grip. It was smooth, but not without texture. Creating the thinnest line of indentation, the rain had worn away a layer of paint in spots over the two years they had been living there.

Yoongi let the pads of his fingertips drift back and forth across one particular line. The quiet seemed to stretch on for several minutes as he allowed his mind to drift back into empty contemplation. Jimin hadn’t moved from where he’d placed his head on the railing in his hands, and Yoongi did not move either, though his feet were beginning to feel a tad sore.

“Please forgive me.”

Yoongi started once again at the unexpected break in his silence. He breathed, carefully exhaling as slowly as possible so as not to accidentally send a message of annoyance.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Jimin.”

“Please, Hyung.”

“I forgive you.”

Jimin suddenly raised his head and stared straight into Yoongi’s eyes. Yoongi’s gut trembled, but he didn’t look away.

“Thank you,” Jimin whispered, steadily pronouncing each syllable without taking his puffy eyes off Yoongi.

Yoongi blinked back tears. Finally, he was able to tear his eyes away, an uneasiness settling in his gut from the stars he saw reflected in his friend’s cinnamon-coloured eyes. They were his natural eyes, without coloured contacts, pure and unaltered by anyone’s influence. Naturally occurring colours had always been closest to Yoongi’s heart, sun-kissed skin, darker hair, warmer eyes. It felt safe to him like a sunset through his bedroom window, untouched by the world’s pollution. It always tugged at his heartstrings to see tears in his friends’ eyes.

“Don’t cry.” Yoongi murmured, tightening his grip on the balcony railing. Jimin looked away.

An even longer silence fell between them, neither willing to break it and both unsure of what was right to say or whether it was right to even say anything. Some of the lights in the distance were beginning to flicker and dim as a light appeared on the horizon. Sunrise peeked above the edge of the world and over the city buildings with pastel blues and pinks, swatches of soft watercolours.

Yoongi could have sworn just a few moments ago, he was jotting down lyrics that had sprung into his mind. 11:11, he’d wished to be able to sleep this restless anxiety away. Yet, when he had pushed open the balcony door for some fresh air, he’d been lured all the way out by the cool breeze. It had momentarily relieved him of his stress and convinced him to remain for just a bit longer. Just a bit longer turned into hours.

And he had practically dragged Jimin out here as well, staying up all night with pain and worry. He’d refused to listen to him in the moment of their conflict, instead, retreating into his studio to work away his frustration. Guilt pooled in his stomach until-

“Can I hold your hand?”

Yoongi didn’t reply, however, he allowed his reply to show in the way he so very quickly took Jimin’s left hand in his own and squeezed it reassuringly. Though his expression never changed, Yoongi’s heart softened. His body relaxed at the warm touch of his friend’s smaller hand in his own. 

It was only, minutes later, when Jimin caught his gaze and smiled did Yoongi return the soft smile with one of his own. He saw fatigue lying deep in Jimin's eyes and assumed there was also likely an evident exhaustion in his own. So he led Jimin back in, soundlessly shut the balcony’s sliding door, and climbed back into bed, allowing Jimin to slip in beside him so he could hold him as they slept.

**Author's Note:**

> please comment <3


End file.
